An Easy Target
by m klindt
Summary: Who is the target in this game of spies. Part of my Lexi stories, only at the very end


An Easy Target

By

M Klindt

I don't own the MFU Characters, but like to use them to play with the one's I've created. Thank you for reading. This is a tale in the "Lexi" series.

Act 1: Nice to meet you============================================

"Oh, holy shit!" I said and watched a man walk into my favorite downtown restaurant, quickly closing the front door, and shifts back and forth to look out the store-front windows as if someone was following him.

The blond, slim man then turned to survey the room to find an empty table seat in the back and guess who has it, me. I shifted in my seat nervously while I tracked his movements coming closer and closer. A half smile, half smirk crossed his face like that of someone innocent of any wrong doing, just looking for a single seat at a table in a crowded room for just one person, but I knew better.

"May I sit here?" he coolly asks me. "All the other seats are taken."

Pretending to have barely noticed him, I smiled, nodded, and glanced at the seat that conveniently had its back to the opposite wall of the corner in which I sat. All the photographs I saw of this man did not do him justice. He was gorgeous. I pretended to go back to my morning paper, but no, he wouldn't let me.

"Thank you for letting me sit here." his thick accent had hints of Russian and British undertones mixed into it. "This is the best place for breakfast in the downtown area. Do you come here often Miss…?"

I put my newspaper down with a mock sigh and looked him straight in the eye. I nearly melted when his baby blues searched my muddy browns. With all the power I had in my body, I tried to put on the best game face that I'd been taught to use in situations like these.

"Nora, Nora Reed," I say softly, feeling my eyes widening and my cheeks flushing from the physical attraction.

There, I saw it; he was caught off guard by my beauty. I've been told that I pack my own powerful punch in the looks department as well. I'm neither the girl next door nor so stunning that I intimidate most men not to approach me. I've just right combination to get noticed by just the right men.

What most people don't expect from me are my smarts and common sense to survive living on my own in the Big Apple while keeping up with my new demanding job. Today is my day off and I hadn't planned to have to match wits with someone so way out of my league, well, someone I thought was out of my league.

"It's nice to meet you, Nora," he blinked and gave a little smile. "My name is Illya Kuryakin."

"Your accent, German," I asked in my best 'I'm beautiful, but dumb' act.

"No, Russian," he changed his expression for a quick, naked, second of disappointment, and then went back to a smooth operator trying to hustle me.

"I don't think that I've ever met someone from Russia." I said before the waitress took his order, brought him a cup of coffee, and refilled mine. He shyly smiled when he snuck a piece of my toast and popped it into his mouth.

We kept the conversation light and casual about the weather and such. I watched him flick his eyes towards the door whenever he heard it open and I smiled softly to myself.

After I finished my third cup of coffee and him his plate, I casually reached down for my purse. Rummaging through it as if I were looking for something, I placed my wallet on the table and dug my hand in deeper to try to grasp my compact mirror and powder. It contained a mild knock out drug when you blew it into someone's face.

While setting his half empty cup of coffee down, Illya's hand slipped and tipped its contents onto the table.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry…" he murmured and picked up my wallet with one hand to save it from the wetness making its mad dash across the table and started to dab the wetness with a napkin with his other hand. "I'm so very clumsy."

I frantically grabbed my purse off the table just as I found something even better than what I was looking for and clutched it in my fist. Instead of the compact, I had found my small perfume spray bottle.

"Not a problem, Illya," I said, putting the purse back down, grabbed for my wallet, and sprayed him with a huge dose of knock-out mist that leaves the victim out cold for at least a half an hour.

He had a shocked look on his face just before passing out and dropping his head to the table with a heavy thud. Carefully, I pulled the blond Adonis back and settled his head off the table and back against the wall.

Rummaging through his shirt, I pulled his gun, wallet, and communicator pen out. I pocketed his gun into my coat's hidden compartment and looked at his communicator pen.

"God damned, Commie," I cursed the sleeping form when I inspected it. I was feeling flush from ravaging his muscular, firm body in my frantic search. "I bet this thing is on."

I didn't know if his fancy pen was on or not, but the antenna was partially extended and the tip turned up-side-down. Man, he was smart, too smart for his own good when I noticed he smelled of sweat and enticing cologne.

Lucky for me that we were so close to THRUSH Central, I thought, pulling his communicator apart and left it in pieces on the floor in the corner. Any more time with him and I would've taken him back to my place and had my way with him, conscious or not.

Grabbing my own communicator, I dialed the main switch board and spoke in a hushed voice once the operator chimed in. "Get me Cleary and quick."

"Cleary here," he's the only senior THRUSH agent I knew by sight and name. I really don't like the guy, but this could be a big feather in my cap if he gives me credit for bagging one of the biggest fish in the spy pond.

"Tom, its Nora Reed. I need you to get over to the Inner City Café." I said in a rush, hoping that the waitress didn't notice the drool forming at the corner of the UNCLE agent's mouth. "I've got Kuryakin knocked out, but it won't take long for Solo to find us, so hurry."

"Is this some kind of joke," he hissed angrily through the communicator. "We've been scouring downtown looking for him."

"No joke," I grunted out my own frustration in trying to have to convince this guy, who I had sitting next to me. "Get your butt in here."

"Trev and I are about half a block away. Hold your horses. If this is some kind of joke…"

"No Joke. Reed out," I said and roughly shut off the communicator to take a good look at the sleeping UNCLE agent.

"What's wrong with your friend?" the older waitress asked when she brought the bill to the table and set it down.

"He'd had a little too much to drink last night and was so punchy this morning that he just fell asleep after he filled his stomach." I lied; handsome took this time to sigh heavily in his sleep.

"Well, I don't envy the hangover to come, but he can't stay here."

"I know and a friend is coming here to help me take him home." I said in a hurry.

In the corner of my eye, I caught Cleary about to open the front door of the restaurant and gave him a wave once he scanned the room. The waitress turned in the direction of my line of sight to see a couple of men in suits walking toward us in the back of the café.

While the nosy waitress stared at the men with her hands on her hips and stood there waiting for Cleary and Trevor to weave their way to us, I pulled out Kuryakin's wallet and threw twice the amount of money for the meal on to the table.

"Right on time," I murmured to Cleary and started to gather my purse and coat. "The bill's been paid and we're ready to go."

I waited for the guys to each grab one of Kuryakin's arms and pull him up. I expected them to follow me out the front door, but I was stopped by a tug at my elbow by Cleary to exit through the back.

"Smart move, Reed," I told myself, feeling a warm blush forming on my face. I should've known better than to parade our actions out in front of everyone.

Once out the back door, we bundled my prize up into a car and headed to THRUSH Central or that's what I thought.

"Umm… Mr. Cleary," I said with a questioning voice. "Where are we going, I thought Central was the other way?"

Act 2: Fun and Games=========================================

"We're not going to Central just yet," he said smugly and kept his gun securely in his hand leveled at Kuryakin's stomach while he slept. "We're going back to the lab where this bastard stole the microdot that has all of the formulas Dr. Chang was going to sell to Thrush on it."

"Why go back there," I asked in confusion, feeling that my part of the credit for capturing the great Illya Kuryakin was dwindling. "Wouldn't it be crawling with UNCLE agents?"

"One would think," Clearly sighed, remembering that I was a mere operative in training. "But only Kuryakin knows the location of the doctor's lab, because he barely escaped after we'd captured him and the guards let him go. They didn't live long enough to make that mistake again."

I swallowed to the thought of what constituted grounds for being terminated, literally, from my job and then looked more keenly at how Kuryakin had been an easy target for an untrained operative like me to catch.

"Don't worry, Nora," Cleary smiled evilly. "If you and I can't get Kuryakin to tell us where that microdot is with the help of our medical aerosol and Dr. Chang's help, neither one of us is going to be welcome back at Central with open arms. Beating this guy to a pulp doesn't work. Hey, does he know that you're working for THRUSH? I could use you…"

"Me, I'm not even through with level one training yet," I said with coke-bottle eyes and started to shake with fear. "I don't even want credit for finding him for you anymore and haven't had any instruction in torture. And, yes, I think that he's got a clue I'm a bad guy, because I did spray him with my perfume."

"In for a penny, in for a pound," Cleary shrugged his shoulders. "It's your chance and the opportunity you need to take, Nora, to succeed at Central. This would be quite an accomplishment for you to pluck the great Illya Kuryakin's tail feathers."

I nodded, but still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling I had that this was all too easy. I sat quietly and watched the scenery of the buildings and people go by. I didn't know where we were going and didn't care. I just wanted to get this part over with and jump forward to getting my promotion and possibly a raise in pay.

Cleary had called ahead and to my surprise, the car rolled up to the emergency entrance of a private sanitarium. A stretcher and orderly were calmly waiting for us to stop. It took only a moment to bundle up the handsome UNCLE agent and strap him down snug as a bug to make the short trip inside of the building.

We rode the elevator up to the sixth floor when I estimated that the heavier knock out spray in my perfume bottle should be wearing off any time, but I kept quiet. I clutched my purse like a nervous wife, looking down with questionable concern at the sleeping agent.

What I am is nervous and scared. What kind of job was I actually training for? Sure, I knew THRUSH wanted to bring world order and paid well, but I thought that I was only going to be used to seduce targets, not see them tortured and killed.

I decided to go with the flow to see how it went when I watched Kuryakin's eyelids twitch. This little experience should tell me if I could handle seeing an actual person being forced into submission and if I could be the one inflicting it. Did I have the brains and stomach for it? I didn't know.

"He's waking up," I squeaked out while clearing my throat in an elevator filled with people that were oblivious to the happenings going on in front of them.

"We're almost to the treatment center, Mrs. Johnson," Cleary said in the encouraging tone a Psych doctor would use on a patient and their family. "He'll be taken good care of and you'll be fine."

"Yes, doctor, thank you." I slipped into the role of stressed wife with ease and sniffled just loud enough for strangers to pointedly avert their eyes from what was going on with us. "You've been most helpful through all this."

Kuryakin's eye's flashed open and his body jerked with a start. His mouth opened, ready to emit a scream while he looked around the elevator and began to struggle against the restraints.

"It's alright dear," I said with a plastered overly-sweet smile, patted Kuryakin's shoulder, and then bent down to place my mouth to his ear and whispered. "Don't do anything drastic or we're going to kill you and others in this elevator."

Kuryakin's eyes narrowed when he turned his head up to get a closer look at Cleary and then to those around the elevator. Finally, those startling blue orbs settled on me. My heart began to race, I felt faint, and my throat became dry and tight as I tried not to nervously lick my lips.

At first, I thought that I would see him struggle even more while my threat sunk in, but Kuryakin just smirked at me and relaxed every bone in his body, settling in. "Good, I love to play games, especially with such a beautiful woman."

The doors of the large elevator opened up to the six floor and the guys pushed the gurney out into the hall with Kuryakin staring up at the ceiling. Cleary took this time to stupidly bait Kuryakin just to get a rise out of him.

"Ha, Kuryakin, you're right about the games beginning. You're going to tell us where you hid that microdot," Cleary said and he leaned his head over the gurney, blocking the light over the agent's head. At the end of the hall was a brightly lit exam room where the cart came to rest in the middle, next to an odd-looking medical chair with restraints.

"What microdot?" Kuryakin innocently asked.

"I knew that I could count on you to be so charming." Cleary smiled smugly. "You didn't stick around long enough the last time for us to properly discuss what's the best formula to use on you was."

"Well, you know me; I don't like to mix business with pleasure…" Kuryakin quipped. "You'd never know whom I'd kill if given the chance."

"Yes, we know," Cleary said with a gruff tone and I started to hear the frustration rise in his voice. "Your last, brief visit here to see the doctor took out several of my men, but I have an ace in the hole this time."

"Really," Kuryakin looked up with mild interest. "And would that mean this lovely lady standing beside you? I thought that Nora was one of you."

"Me, what?" I blurted out, shocked in how the conversation had turned. "What does he mean, Cleary?"

"Very good," Cleary smiled darkly down at him, while ignoring me when I feel Trevor's beefy hand lightly grab my elbow. "You know, I thought it was Solo's whose head could be turned by a pretty girl, not yours. Personally, I thought that you were into men, especially that partner of yours…"

"Oh, my virgin ears," Kuryakin rolled his eyes and then sent a quick glance at me, the sarcasm dripping from his tongue. "You'd better stop before you make her blush again."

Still in awe, I watched the banter between the two rivals on the opposite side of the fence. I shook my head to clear it, closed my open mouth, and roughly pulled my arm away from Trevor. I decided not to play the victim like Cleary wanted me to.

"Virgin ears, my ass," I hissed out, interrupting them by slapping Kuryakin hard across his face. "I don't need you to defend me."

Cleary broke out in laughter while Kuryakin just remained calm, leveling his eyes at me while keeping his face blank. The red mark of my hand began to emerge on the smug, slightly tanned face.

Despite taking the chance with Cleary's reaction, I didn't feel good about hitting Illya. There was no pleasure for me in causing pain, but maybe, this numb feeling will go away quickly. I was still in a stupor as to what to do and that could cost me my life.

"Ah, Dr. Chang," Cleary said pleasantly after a click of the door sounded out within the exam room and a short Chinese man in a lab coat walked in. "It's nice to see you again. Did you find any of your files usable?"

Chang only grunted out a curse in Mandarin while he kept his back to us and went over to wash his hands in a side sink. I turned back to Kuryakin to see him smirk softly to himself at the good doctor's indignant comments.

After disposing of his paper towel, Chang reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a syringe filled with a clear fluid. He placed it on a rolling tray table, went to the cupboard to grab a rubber strap, and a damp ball from a jar of cotton soaking in alcohol.

"Him in chair I need." Dr. Chang said in broken English and waited with his arm crossed for Cleary and Trevor to get Kuryakin in the menacing examination chair. I stepped back to watch the action.

"This is all up to you, Kuryakin." Cleary said without moving, looking at him tied securely to the stretcher. "You can play nice and get into that chair or get punched, held down, and carried to it. Another option is that I could have Nora spray you with her knock out spray. But then, we would all have to wait for you to wake up again and I don't think that Dr. Chang would be happy to be delayed yet again after what you did to his lab earlier today."

"I'm feeling a bit tired after this morning," Kuryakin said in a deadpan tone, snuggling deeper into the gurney. "I think that I'll stay right here…"

"You're a brave son of a bitch, but stupid man." Cleary nodded to Trevor.

Cleary pulled out his gun and gave it to me. "Here, aim it at him and shoot him in the leg if he tries to escape."

Nodding and leveling the gun at Kuryakin while I watched his wrists being held by THRUSH agent, each of them, started to loosen the restraints. I didn't really know how to hold a gun properly, but I held it as if I did. I straightened my arm and held the grip of the gun tight to stop it from shaking and not show how naïve I was.

What was strange to me was Kuryakin. He didn't take his eyes off me and simply let Cleary and Trevor manhandle him until they had him off the gurney. In one quick move and strength that I wouldn't have guessed Kuryakin had, he pulled back on his arms and sent the guys off balance.

I shook, trying to clearly aim a non-fatal shot, but Trevor spun around in front of me when the shot rang out. I hadn't realized that I had even pulled the trigger until the noise of rang throughout the room.

Trevor screamed and clasped his leg, letting go of the slight, blond agent's one wrist long enough for him to cold-cock Cleary and he dropped to the floor. Taking quick steps to the door, Kuryakin grabbed the handle before I even thought to aim the gun again at him.

He got as far as opening the door before two more THRUSH guards rushed the room with their guns drawn and leveled. They had heard the gunshot and had come to investigate. All Kuryakin could do was lift his hands up and stand very still while they waited for Cleary to get up from the floor, wipe the blood from his mouth with the cuff of his shirt, and walk to where everyone was standing.

No one was surprised when Cleary sucker punched Kuryakin in the right kidney, which dropped him to his knees with a grunt of pain.

"Get him in the chair," Cleary ordered, took his gun back from me, and then looked at Trevor lying on the ground groaning in pain.

All this time, Dr. Chang just stood there and watched with sadistic amusement. That didn't sit well with Cleary. I got the feeling that if he could, he would kill the good doctor along with Kuryakin, but he needed those formulas. The only two obstacles left in his way to THRUSH Central's hierarchy.

Once Cleary and Chang made sure that Kuryakin was tightly secured in the procedure chair, Cleary turned to the guards and barked, "Take Trevor with you and get him medical attention."

"I need his shirt off." Dr. Chang ordered to Cleary when he turned his attention back to the wayward UNCLE agent and handed him a pair of scissors.

"Here, Nora," In one smooth move he took the scissors from Chang and then motioned me closer with them until I was able to take them from him. "Maybe you can learn to be more useful than shooting a fellow THRUSH operative."

I started to blush bright red again with embarrassment to Cleary's off-handed comment that didn't carry any of the heat and anger it could have had, considering I'd just shot a senior operative. To cover my uncertainty, I twisted the sharp instrument in the right direction and began to cut the clothes off the silent Kuryakin.

Oh, dear God! I swore to myself, visually tracing his taut arm muscles, counting the spider web of vessels that lay just under the skin, and then came the scars. This soft pale skin told the story of the war that was waged between THRUSH and UNCLE and it wasn't finished. The punch from Cleary was already going from red and angry to black and blue; coming into view after I peeled the shirt away from his flank.

The back of the procedure chair was open and I could easily slide off Illya's cut clothes. This exposed another bevy of scars, burns, and bruises. If this is what it took to be a top field agent, I didn't want it, I thought, took a small breath in, and this didn't show all the other tortures this man had suffered just for the sake of some silly idealistic principals.

Dr. Chang cleared his throat to remind me to that his time was precious and he didn't want to waste it on my day dreaming. Once I was done, I handed back the scissors and slowly stepped out of the way from the upright chair. It held Illya in an upright and forward position on a hard metal seat with his forearms and ankles secured.

At the end of each arm rest was a molded hand rest to place the victim's fingers in separately and secure them down. I didn't understand the purpose of it until Chang grabbed at Kuryakin's elbow, but couldn't get to the vessels inside of the crook, because it was bent and tied down with a strap. All the doctor did was to place the rubber tourniquet on his upper arm.

Next, Chang tried to place one of Kuryakin's hands into the mold, but he wouldn't let him. Illya had kept his hands in balled up fists while the Asian doctor encircled his boney wrist. With all his might, the doctor couldn't get him to unclench his fist.

Tired of all of the delays, Chang spat out a long list of curses in his native tongue that I didn't have to guess at; it was all too obvious. Apparently, Kuryakin understood it first hand and retorted back to the man something that wasn't so nice either. Chang's face turned from just frustrated to pure red with bulging eyes. Even Cleary and I cringed as to what the seemingly passive doctor might do.

Still holding the smug or extremely stupid agent's wrist, I hadn't decided yet which one he was, Chang grasped Kuryakin's pinky finger and pulled it back with brutal force.

The pain and motion of this simple action on Kuryakin's hand gave Chang the upper hand, so to speak, when his hand reluctantly opened up. Swiftly, the doctor placed the rest of his fingers in the correct slots just before I heard a loud, audible snap of a broken finger bone.

Through all of this pain, I was amazed at Illya's sheer will and stubbornness in remaining silent. He didn't scream or give a damn inch, but only softly released his held-in breath as the sharp, intense pain seemed to be gone for now.

Now I know why Chang wanted Illya's hand open. The scary doctor had turned and picked up the syringe and cotton ball. He swabbed down the panting agent's skin on top of his back hand and savagely shoved the needle into the first visible vein.

Almost as quickly as Chang pushed the dense fluid into Illya's blood system, he began to shake and murmur under his breath. He closed his magnetic, blue eyes tight. "Hot, hot, hot…"

"How long before we can question him about the microdot and UNCLE?" Cleary asked while the doctor recapped the syringe.

"To full effect," Chang said, tracing the angry red mark that ran up Kuryakin's arm. "About 15 minutes. I go get my notes, he fix."

"Good, that gives me time to check in with Central and change my shirt." Cleary nodded and then turned to me. "Keep him in your sight. Alert the guards outside if he tries to escape. I'll only be gone a few minutes."

I nodded, looked around the room and spotted a chair. I pulled it close to the trembling agent to watch him, but just out of his reach.

Act Three: And one more makes Solo =========================

For the first full minute of being left in the exam room with a drugged UNCLE agent, I was still numb to all that had transpired. I sat watching the great Illya Kuryakin, Number Two of Second Two, struggle with the affects of a very nasty and very newly developed truth serum designed for THRUSH to use on agents like him. UNCLE agents, whose high tolerance to the standard mind-altering drugs made them useless.

I looked Illya up and down from my perch. He become haggard looking with his eyebrows furled and eyes scrunched in pained concentration. His soft, pink lips were contorted into a straight line, trying to keep his tongue and last meal tightly locked behind them.

Bored with just sitting and babysitting the mute blond man, I start to take in more of the room I was in. One of the fluorescent lights was flickering and I wondered why I hadn't noticed it before this.

"Nora," a small, tight voice caught me by surprise.

Startled, I turned back to Illya. I was surprised that he could even talk, let alone remember my name. Nervously, I liked my lips and sat up straighter. "Yes."

"Will you pull my finger?" Kuryakin asked through clinched teeth with his head still drooped forward.

"What?" I asked in confusion. "Pull your finger? Are you joking? Why would I want to hear you fart?"

"Nora," he grunted and tried to crack open one of his eyelids to look at me. "Pull my broken finger; it's displaced and very painful. I want to be able to play the violin when I get out of here."

"You play the violin?" I asked in awe.

"Not, but I would like to if you help me," he smirked a little.

"Oh! You're hilarious!" I contorted my face to hide being so gullible and then thought about what he was asking me to do. "I'm not good at medical things. I hate to feel…what's that word?"

"Crepitus," Kuryakin patiently sighed and then suddenly jerked against the restraints.

"Are you all right?" I knew that I was asking a dumb question, but what else could I say? Illya went from a wet noodle, to a flopping fish, and back in mere seconds.

"No, I don't feel very well currently," Illya conceded with head bowed forward again. "But, I would feel better if my finger was pulled back into alignment…"

"This isn't a trick, is it?" I accused him and stopped my forward motion towards him. I felt the scrap of his gun in my coat pocket, against the chair I had been sitting in while I stood up.

"No," he growled at me in a deep, low voice. "Please, just grab my wrist with one hand and take my finger and pull it straight out."

Feeling guilty that I was acting like a stubborn child, I walked in front of Illya and did what he told me. In one quick motion, I pulled his pinky finger hard and then released it with a nauseating crunching snap. He let out a high pitched yelp of pain and I stepped back to cover my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to control my gag reflex.

After I stopped heaving, I turned back around to see Illya awkwardly rest his head on one of his secured forearms. His shallow breaths rattled throughout the silent room. Exhausted from the drain of spent adrenalin, I went to sit back down on my stool, took his gun out of my hidden coat pocket and looked at it.

Tracing the engraved "K" initials with my finger, I started to wish Cleary was back. It should only be a few minutes longer that I would have to sit alone with this fallen agent. Someone, I took the opportunity to exploit. It was an odd feeling of guilt, excitement, and fear all wrapped up together. Could I do this every day for a living?

The door to the hallway suddenly started to open and I jumped up, Illya's gun still in my hand and at my side, because I expected my superior THRUSH operative to walk into the room, but I was wrong.

The man who rushed in the door and quickly closed it was someone else that I had seen only in a photograph, like Illya. Everyone who worked in THRUSH was expected to know who he was and I certainly did. It was the even more famous and infamous Napoleon Solo.

Stunned at first, but after what has happened to me today, I no longer was impressed by the Dynamic Duo or afraid to be in the same room. I raised Illya's gun and silently waited for him to notice me.

Still listening at the door, Solo turned to look around the room, settling his eyes first on Illya and then on me. Ignoring that I had his partner's gun pointed right at him, he walks over to Illya and started to release his restraints.

"Don't," I tried to sound threatening. "I'll shoot you. Cleary and Dr. Chang will be back any minute. I'm sure they'll be happy that both of you have given up to me."

"Miss," Napoleon started to casually scold me.

"Nora," a small voice from the handsome agent's side informed him. I don't know how the women at UNCLE headquarters ever get any work done with these two around. "And, you're late…I hate this plan..."

"Nora," Napoleon finally stopped long enough to look me straight in the eyes and smiled at me like you would when you're trying to be patient with a selfish child. "If you're going to be taken seriously, you need to take the safety off the gun first."

"Oh," I said, lowering the gun and myself onto the chair with resignation. "I'm not going to make it in the spy business am I?"

"Sorry, sweetheart," Napoleon said with a weak smile. When Napoleon released Illya from the straps that held him up, he crumpled to the floor. "What did they give him?"

Both of us rushed forward to Illya's side to help him. I don't know how, but a switch in my head decided to help them get out of here and hoped to God that they would take me with them.

I raised my eyes to Napoleon's and just knew that he'd agreed to this even without me having to ask. His silky, brown eyes had golden flecks in them that made my legs quiver.

"It's a new truth serum especially made for agents like you and Illya," I said, giving him Illya's gun, and then I helped pull Illya up to a sitting position again and let him rest his head on my shoulder. "I got the impression that he was here before, destroyed Chang's notes, and stole THRUSH's microdot with the formulas on it. Cleary and the good doctor weren't too happy."

"They never are," Napoleon nodded and started to pull his partner up by his belt. "Common, Illya, we need to get out of here before your admirers show up. Nora said that she would help you walk."

"Good, she's better company." Illya groaned, the truth drug was starting to reach its full effects while Napoleon wrapped his friend's arms over my shoulders. "Ahh…I think that I'm going to be sick…"

"No you don't." I quickly hauled him to the corner trash can and looked away from his retching, silently wishing my own dry heaves away at the same time.

While I just stood there with Illya, the door banged open when Cleary and Dr. Chang walked into the room. "Oh shit, shit, shit," I stammered to myself. Both TRHUSH operatives looked at me with disappointment and shock.

"Nora, what are you doing?" Cleary asked, grabbing Kuryakin's arm while he was bent over the foul smelling mess. Both of them were so intent on watching Kuryakin and me while I held Kuryakin by his waist.

"What would you have me do?" I asked hotly. "Let him puke all over the place or in the trash can?"

"Back to chair," Chang ordered. "Nausea should end now stomach empty. Should feel happy and chatty."

"Come on, Nora," Cleary said in an up-beat tone. "Let's get him back in his seat of honor and find that microdot. Central was glad you found him and we're going to bring him in with the microdot. Having lost all that information caused quite a stir for a while."

Just as Dr. Chang promised, Illya began to feel better after losing his lunch or was it breakfast? A silly smile began to form on his face and he started to softly hum to himself, but still couldn't control his own muscles, because he was still leaning heavily against me.

Then Illya began to jabber in a strange language I didn't know while I secretly looked around for Napoleon. I knew he was here, but he had taken advantage of the fact that Cleary and Chang didn't even bother to look past what Illya and I were doing.

"Doctor," Cleary called out to the little China man who was gingerly opening his mostly destroyed notebook. It looked like it and had been ruined by something spilled on it, because it had burned holes and ink smeared pages throughout. "Will he be able to answer us in English?"

Chang just shrugged his shoulders to the question. I can tell that this didn't make Cleary none too happy.

"Look, I don't care if the truth serum works or not. I just want to know where the microdot is. Who cares about your ruined notes," Cleary said, he and l lifted the limp and heavy agent back into the chair. "It'll be on the dot…"

Illya began to slur something else, still having his arms draped over my shoulders while I stood in front of him.

"What did he say?" Cleary asked, clearly getting more frustrated by the second.

"He said that he doesn't have your microdot on him." Solo finally spoke, surprising Cleary and Chang who suddenly turned their attention to the corner of the room, behind a fabric changing screen.

With the precision of the super spy I knew Solo to be, he shot Cleary and Chang square in the chest before either one could react. I buried my eyes into Illya's shoulder, fearing the thought of seeing their blood splatter all over the room, but I had to eventually look to make sure that this was really happening.

I turned my head to look at Cleary and didn't see anything but a passed out man. Confused, I turned to Napoleon.

"Mercy bullets," he simply said, holstering his gun, and then pulling out a communicator pen. "Open channel D."

"Mr. Solo," a gruff voice hit my ears. I didn't know who it was, but he must be someone of importance. "I hope that you have found Mr. Kuryakin and the microdot."

Napoleon grimaced and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. I almost laughed out, but he put his finger to his lips to remind me to keep quiet. "Ahh, yes sir, I have found Mr. Kuryakin, he has volunteered to test THRUSH's new truth serum for us and does have the microdot, but we may have to wait to find out where."

"Very well, Mr. Solo," the stern voice gave up. "Can you and Miss Reed bring him into headquarters or do you need even more assistance?"

"No, I think that we can get him to my car and be there within the hour, Sir." Napoleon never took his eyes off me. I gawked at him with shock and awe.

"Well, done, Waverly out."

"That was Mr. Waverly?" I said in unbridled fascination. I had heard only stories about the legendary man. "How did he know my name?"

"Because he was on the communicator while you and Illya were eating breakfast." He commented with a devilish smile on his face.

Napoleon then proceeded to once again pull his oblivious partner up onto his jello-like legs and settled him between our shoulders after we had wrapped him in a sheet and walked him out the door.

Before we left the room, Illya stopped dead in his tracks and said in perfect English, "Purse…wallet…dot."

"Righto," Napoleon nodded. "Say, Nora, don't forget your purse."

"My purse, right," I had forgotten that I had set it on the counter when I had first entered the room. Pushing Illya over to Napoleon to support him, I went and grabbed my coat and purse, slung them over my arm, and then took Illya's arm to cross it over my shoulder again.

Silently, we made it back to the parking ramp attached to the building and to Napoleon's car. I didn't feel like talking, held Illya's head in my lap, and enjoyed softly stroking his silky, yellow hair. I took this time to think of all that happened to me today and what my future was going to bring.

For his part, Illya seemed to understand and allowed me to touch him. I had heard all these stories about how vicious and tough this man was and could be. I didn't know, maybe it was the drug raging in his system, but he just smiled at me, closed his eyes, and held my hand in his. I had a feeling that he and I would talk later on at UNCLE, a talk that would involve Napoleon and Mr. Waverly as well.

Act Four: One more thought for the road =========================

When Napoleon had finally stopped in a non-descript parking garage, our peaceful quiet ride had ended. A couple of burly men met us and helped gently pulled Illya off my lap to take him away. To where, I still wasn't sure. I guess this was the UNCLE headquarters for all I knew.

A rapping on my car window caught me by surprise and I jumped when I looked to find Napoleon staring at me with a smile on his handsome face. I grinned back when he opened the back car door for me and extended a soft, but firm hand to me.

Gingerly, I got out of the car, still holding his hand. Napoleon used that and his other hand on my elbow to propel me forward to a plain door just next to the one Illya was taken through.

Once inside a small hallway, I heard a small hum and saw a quick flash of light almost too quick to detect. I looked to Napoleon for the answer and he just shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Several homing devices and two guns, UNCLE standard issue on you Mr. Solo," a voice echoed in the room from a hidden speaker. "One homing device stick pin, UNCLE, on Miss Reed, inside the lining of her coat on the right."

"Thanks, Phil," Napoleon nodded, the inside door clicked, and he pulled it open.

When we went in, I wondered if I would have to go through twenty such detection rooms before I was truly let into headquarters or would I be told to go my merry way. I was glad to have Napoleon by my side to smooth the waters as they were.

"Nora, I have to ask for your purse and coat," Napoleon said, breaking into my internal mutterings to no one and I shot him a quick look of distrust. "I promise that you'll get them back shortly."

Staring deep into his steady eyes, I acquiesced to the request, I mean, what could I do? I was a THRUSH operative in training standing in UNCLE headquarters. Sheepishly, I slowly handed him my coat and then my purse.

"You can have a couple dollars out of my wallet," I grimly said with a smirk on my lips. "I took Illya's wallet to pay for our meal and left a rather big tip. His wallet's in there."

"Well, it's a good thing that you paid," Napoleon chuckled as he turned my coat over and removed the stick pin homing device, placed in his tie, and then draped the coat and purse over his arm. "Illya is so tight with his money that he squeaks."

"Will he be all right?" I suddenly asked.

"Oh, yeah," Napoleon nodded, but had a serious look about him. "Medical will check him out, give him a "highly experimental" antidote that our friend George has made, and then we can see him. He and I need to explain a few things and apologize to you."

"Highly experimental…apologize to me?" I repeated like a parrot and felt my eyebrows rise in surprise.

"Yes, but not here in the hall."

Napoleon again started to guide me through the maze of colorless grey metal walls. I bet the first week here at UNCLE headquarters could easily make a new employee disoriented and dizzy. I know I was feeling that way after the third turn.

After about five minutes, we entered a blank room, just as plain and monochrome as the hallway. The few things it had was a couple of chairs, a small Formica table, and a sink with a water fountain faucet.

Napoleon sat me down in one of the chairs, went to grab me a drink of water in a paper cup in the same grey color, and then handed it to me. I peered into the cup as if it were poisonous.

"What's the matter," he asked me with concern. "Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," I rolled my eyes. "I was just looking to see if the water was grey too. At least at Central, there's a little color on the walls."

"For that amount of dry humor, Nora, I may have to throw you in a detention cell." Napoleon's eyes twinkled, trying not to smile. "I'll have you know that this grey is much cheerier than in the labs and the firing range."

Our laughter broke the little bit of icy strain between us, but I was starting to fill up with questions. Not the ones that had been already answered such as, "How did everyone know my name?" or "How did Napoleon find where we had taken Illya?" But, " What was UNCLE going to do to me now?" "Was I safe from THRUSH, and what was going to happen to me once I walked back out into the real world?"

Sensing that I was about to give him the third degree, Napoleon cleared his throat and patted my shoulder. He knelt down by the chair with his warm hand lightly caressing the top of my arm when he looked straight at me.

"Nora, you'll be fine. I have to go check on a few things and make sure the microdot is where Illya said it was." He paused for a moment to let that thought sink in. "I'll be back soon. I'll have one of the ladies bring you something more colorful to drink and eat."

With a final pat on my arm, he rose up, and Napoleon left me to sit in this plain room to wait. "Hey, could you have them bring me a magazine or something to read."

"You got it, beautiful," he shouted back to me and waved his hand.

"You got it, beautiful." I repeated his words with a sarcastic snort, picked up the plain paper cup and took a drink of plain water.

MFU/MFU

Sigh!

I caught myself sighing more and more frequently after I knew that I had been in this sterile room for over an hour now. I had read through the magazine, Susan, my room warden, had given me twice. Now there was nothing to do with my nervous energy, but to pace up and down the empty room, sit for a while to leaf through the glossy pages, and then stand back up to pace all over again.

Then, there was a knock at the door. I gave a snort in amusement. Why would someone have to knock to be let into a locked room? I know, because I heard the click of the lock and if there wasn't a camera in the room, there was going to be one on the door.

After the second knock, the door opened up to me standing by the table with my arms crossed in front of me. It was Napoleon and Illya who entered to break the boredom.

Napoleon looked the same as when he left me in this grey jail cell, but Illya looked different. Oh, he was not knocked on his ass like he was before or the quiet, thoughtful man lying on my lap half asleep.

No, this Illya looked drawn, tired, and irritable. He had on grey sweat pants and a thin white tee-shirt just to tease me. A dressing wrapped around his arm with IV tubing taped just above a padded metal finger splint he now was sporting on the finger he had me pull.

With an abrupt gait, Illya walked to the table and sat down with a worried Napoleon following in his wake. He pulled out these pair of ridiculous heavy, black, framed glasses out of his hand that also held a collection of papers that I hadn't noticed before and he spread them on the table.

"Nora," Illya growled softly without looking up at me. "Come and sit down."

Concerned for my physical well-being if I stepped closer to Illya, I gave Napoleon a quick glance to see if he would save me. Now, I understood all the rumors and stories I'd heard of how intimidating this top UNCLE agent could be.

"It's all right, Nora," Solo said with a threatening tone meant for his partner to behave. "I'll protect you from him. He's pretty full right now, because he's already chewed on a few doctors in Medical. THRUSH drugs always make him surly."

"Napoleon," Illya finally looked up with stormy, darker blue eyes. "Shut up. Go make yourself useful for once and get another chair or just leave us."

"You know that I can't do that," Napoleon sighed in frustration, not wanting Illya to be here in the first place with me. "Medical only agreed to let you out of your room if I was with you the whole time. I'm perfectly able to take care…"

"Napoleon, I already have a monstrous headache; don't become another one or I will have to kill you."

"Fine, I could fight with you about this for hours, but that doesn't get Nora out of here any sooner," Napoleon winked at me while I braved sitting across from this unpredictable agent.

Napoleon signaled for the door to open and someone magically passed him a chair as soon as it opened. Quietly he carried the chair to the table, set it down by me and across from Illya. Illya silently watched Napoleon's actions of getting the chair and sitting down with clinched teeth, trying to prevent himself from saying something rather rude.

"Nora," Illya turned to me, "I have to explain a few things to you and then we need to talk about what you want to do."

Swallowing and trying to settle my nerves down, I nodded. I felt like I was back in grade school listening to my teacher explain why I got a bad grade on a test. I folded my hands on my crossed legs and kept my back straight, hopefully out of Illya's striking range.

"First, I want to tell you that I'm sorry that I used you as an easy target." Illya began, furling his brows in discomfort for a moment. "I started the day off checking up on a lead that Dr. Chang had a new batch of formulas that were designed to get the victim to give up more suppressed information. It's rumored to be very effected on those like Napoleon and me who have gained a tolerance to the standard truth serums."

"Yeah, I got that impression from your chat with Cleary." I stiffly stated, watching Illya very carefully.

"Yes," he grinned evilly and eyed me over his glasses. "I had found the clinic and was able to throw a few acid bombs in his files before taking the microdot he had for THRUSH sitting in a small case on his desk. I had almost gotten away when…"

Illya's head turned slightly to Napoleon and his eyes became sharp as daggers. Napoleon bravely withstood his fierce glare for a moment and then tried to shake it off. I leaned back from the sheer strength of wills in the room. Man, if this was what these two were like with each other, THRUSH was doomed, I thought to myself.

"I am not going to get in to it again, about how I was trying to get away from Angelique…"

Napoleon was with Angelique! Now I joined Illya to stare at Napoleon, but with my mouth gapped open. Never in my wildest dreams did I even hope to be as good as her in the spy game, although I thought that I could try. I mean, I'm several years younger and some of the male THRUSH operatives have told me that I'm just as pretty as she was.

Illya then let out a stream of angry retorts in at least two to three languages that I thought I could make out in a deadly low growl.

"Now, that wasn't very nice to say about the lady in question or me." Napoleon's smug face shone with a bright smile that rose above whatever his blond partner was slinging at him.

"Nora," Illya sighed in resignation, deciding to ignore his partner, and turning back to me. "I was caught escaping by the lab's door and had to take out a couple of Cleary's men to get out of the building.

"I was on the run when I went into the café to escape long enough to try to call my partner to help with transportation to headquarters." Illya's eyes slightly rolled up. "When I spotted you, I knew exactly who you were, Nora. Your picture and name were on our "new agents" list."

"And I you, Illya," I said softly. "I was thinking how lucky I was that I had attracted your attention. I had actually thought that you were the easy target. Shows you what I know. That, I could actually trap you for THRUSH so easily with just my looks and sweet talk."

"Well." Illya smiled lightly, "You threw me through a couple of loops."

"Really, how?" I asked as if I were getting a better grade on a test than I had thought on the man-attracting skills I had just learned in training.

"I wasn't expecting you to play the 'beautiful, but dumb' card right off the bat, so to speak. I was a little disappointed in that."

"Well…" I began to squirm. "There are rumors that, well, you know…"

"What really caught me by surprise is that you stuck to your convictions and still knocked me out with your perfume despite your physical attraction to me." Illya ignored the obvious innuendo she tried to bite him with and genuinely smiled at me. "I was hoping to make you question them and help me instead of turn me back over to Cleary, which, in the end, became part of my plan to have you with me if I got captured again."

"Me? Why would that matter?" I asked in confusion. "Why would you want to go back to that lab and be tortured by Dr. Chang?"

"Because, I was stalling for time," Illya said quickly. "I had to make sure the microdot didn't get found, so I planted it on your wallet while we cleaned up from when I purposely spilled my coffee. I needed to be able to find you and your purse while Mr. Waverly and Napoleon were homing in on my tracer. I knew that you were smart enough to turn it off or break my communicator; that's why I planted that homing device on your coat."

"Of course, what fashion-minded woman would leave her purse and coat just sitting around in a cafe?" I said in jest, creating a smirk on Illya and Napoleon's lips.

"Nora, I knew I liked you for some reason." Napoleon smiled brightly and patted my hands. "When we found out where you two were, we were able to overpower the guards at the door and replace them with Section Three agents. We were hoping that Cleary wouldn't notice and he didn't."

"Wow, you two sure like to gamble against the odds a lot." I shook my head in disbelief. "I'm usually not that lucky. I was caught almost right away by you, Illya."

"That's why I was listening at the door when I came in." Napoleon only smiled at the constant rumors of their survival by sheer luck, his, especially. "I waited to see if our boys from Section Three had accomplished getting the bodies hidden after I had darted them and the coast was clear."

"Maybe, I should say that you were lucky that I just didn't shoot you on the spot." I raised my eyebrows up and goaded him.

"Luck had nothing to do with it," Napoleon smiled brightly. "You don't have it in you to kill or you would have."

I stopped abruptly and stiffened. How dare he say that to me? Deep down, maybe, Napoleon was right about me, but he didn't have to say it out loud. I had to swallow my quick anger to not be so blatant in my reactions. A part of me wanted to prove him and Illya wrong about me and my chances as a spy. Sure, I needed a lot more training, but his smugness only spurred on my desire to work even harder.

"I guess you're right, Napoleon," I lied through my teeth. "So what now? You've the microdot and have destroyed Dr. Chang's notes. Did Cleary and Chang get away or did UNCLE round them up as well?"

Illya brought his head back up from his notes to look at me with increased scrutiny. Remember, I'm not as dumb as my beauty portrays.

"No," Napoleon said shrewdly, noticing my obvious change in attitude when the room got suddenly colder. "Our mission was to get Illya and the microdot out as soon as possible. I was to actually leave you there, but Illya seemed to be attached to you and I needed your help to get him out of the building."

"What can I say," Illya finally spoke, but it wasn't as pleasant as it was before to me. "I really do prefer a THRUSH operative to my partner."

"So, what now?" I asked again, our little game of cat and mouse was drawing to an end. "What'll become of me?"

"That's up to you, my dear." Napoleon swiveled in his chair slightly. He maintained his eye contact with me. "What do you think we should do with you?"

While I stared at this gorgeous, dark-haired man with hazel eyes, I knew that I had to give a quick answer to the question that would change a lifetime of work.

I shifted my eyes to the blond Adonis to see his deep penetrating eyes watch me closely with a half smirk on his lips. Those two knew exactly what I was facing.

"I see it as having three choices." I began with my mind whirling. "One, if you let me go, I could go back to THRUSH and hope for the best, which could mean possible death, more intense training, or reassignment to a different department.

"Two, I could throw myself on UNCLE's mercy and see if you would be lenient. Maybe, you'd be willing to give a washed up THRUSH trainee a job and protect me from my former employer."

"And the third option?" Napoleon asked, turning my attention back to him.

"Third, I could just disappear into the wilds of New York, never to darken the door of either THRUSH or UNCLE ever again."

Before I could say anymore, a very attractive female UNCLE employee walked into the room carrying a single sheet of paper. She had shiny, deep auburn hair done up in a tight bun with the standard gray blouse and pencil skirt on. What caught me off guard was her granny, wire-rimmed glasses that were precariously perched on her pert nose.

She was like me in the fact that when we would enter a room, other women would straighten up and the jealously claws would start to come out. It was if I now had competition for these UNCLE agents' attention.

This minx didn't even look at me once and made a beeline straight for Illya, who had half-turned his chair out from the table when she approached. Without a word, she dropped the blank piece of paper on the table, hitched up her tight skirt and straddled his lap.

Then, to my surprise, she leaned into Illya, wrapped herself around him, and started to devour his tongue in deep kisses. If my mouth had fallen open to the table because of my thoughts of Napoleon with Angelique, it was now on the floor in utter shock and disbelief.

Illya was no slouch either in this blatant act of seduction. His hands started at the nape of her neck, one of them expertly pulled out a single hidden pin to release her hair from the tight bun. His thick fingers ran through it and then down the sides of her body with his fingers to her back and his thumbs tracing an imaginary line across her nipples, but he never took his eyes off me.

I shivered with lust at the quick caress that would have gone unnoticed if I hadn't been ogling them so intently, but they weren't done yet. Without breaking their lip lock, Illya's hands continued their downward track to this creature's knees and lingered just long enough to stroke the top of her calf muscle, right behind the knee. God, I loved that spot! Strong, callus fingers stimulating the sensitive skin, it was the mark of a superb lover.

Licking my dry lips, I forced my mouth shut before I could start to drool. I didn't care if Illya was gay, bisexual or straight, I just wanted to be that person he was holding. Hell, I didn't care who saw neither!

"Tonight?" the randy bitch asked, breaking their kiss while Illya's hands started to move back up her knees to her thighs, bringing her gathered skirt even higher. He took his left hand and placed it in between her thighs to grab for something I couldn't see.

"If you insist," Illya said casually as if he was doing her a favor and pulled his hand away from under her to reveal a small gun that he held loosely in his lap while the woman got back up. "But I have to finish up with Nora first."

"Napoleon...Nora,"

The slut acknowledged us, straightening her skirt and running her hands through her tussled hair while she turned to leave, but paused just long enough to seductively smile at Napoleon before she closed the door.

"Lexi," Napoleon dismissed her formally, but with laughing eyes.

I blinked and thought, did that just happened? In a matter of a few moments, my ideas of thinking of who Illya Kuryakin was had changed so drastically. It could be fun to go back to THRUSH just to be able to play the spy game with him and Napoleon.

What was even more shocking was that Napoleon didn't bother to try to seduce me or take away my attention from his partner. All he did the whole time in the room was to listen and watch my reactions. This was very odd to me. After all, wasn't he usually the mouthpiece of the two?

"Nora," Illya said softly to get my attention, his face blank and posture professional.

I had found that I was still staring at the door that tramp had left through. I quickly turned my head. My claws were still out and I could feel the flush of emotion heat up in my face. I had to stop feeling jealous and concentrate on what was now going on.

Looking down from Illya's face, I noticed that the small gun he had taken from that whore was no longer in his lap, but pointing right at me. I looked back up to his face and swallowed.

"I hope what you take from today are lessons in survival."

"Survival," I asked humbly, not seeing any emotion in his cold, blue, calculating eyes.

"Being an agent isn't all fun and games. I've been toying with you to prove a point. There were several instances today where I, you, Cleary, and Napoleon could have been killed for the sake of what we do."

He was toying with me? Those were the only words I heard while I waited for him to lower his gun. I'm supposed to be turned into one of the good guys, not to be played with…

"What I'm going to say next will be important." Illya emphasized his words to get me to concentrate on what he was saying.

"Important," I repeated like a mimic, switching my gaze from the gun to his startling blue eyes that still held no warmth.

"You must be willing to lie, seduce, and kill those who are deemed to be enemies without remorse. Can you do that for THRUSH when you go back?"

"How did…" I didn't even get to finish my sentence before Illya shot me at point-blank range square in the chest. In a slow, shocked daze, I watched the smoke rising from the gun to then stare stupidly down between my boobs from the stinging pain, and waiting to feel the blood rush out of me.

"Sorry Nora, the lessons are over for now."

That's all I heard, because a warm wave rushed through my ears and the room faded into an unfocused shadow of black. The last thing I felt was my head falling forward.

Epilogue

I don't know if it was just one thing that woke me up, but the more I became aware, the more I could tell you what I smelled. First, there was the smell of old urine mixed in with grease and car fumes. If I took a really big breath in, I could smell the mold and mustiness around me with a dash of fresh puke that I knew had to be mine by the way my stomach was now churning.

"Hey, lady!" Someone shouted and I felt a rather painful nudge at my arm.

"Wwww..."

That was all I could get my lips to say as I pried my tongue from the roof on my mouth while trying to swallow the leftover bile in my stomach back down. Then the pounding headache hit me strong enough not to want to even open my eyes for a week.

"Get up, you'll survive." A voice grunted out a chuckle before someone grabbed my arm and pulled me up to a sitting position.

"Ooohhhh…"

I held my head still with my hands and I silently begged the world to stop spinning around me. Where was I and why was I lying on the ground? I risked opening one eye and was able to notice that the person who was helping was a cop. A cop! Not only that, but I was sitting in a very dirty alley.

"Next time," the cop started to say once he continued to pull me onto my wobbly legs and slung my purse over my shoulder. "When you do your drinking in the afternoon; you'd better have someone with you to take you home. Anyone could've have stolen your purse. I have a taxi waiting for you."

As I let him lead me; I stumbled, trying to comprehend what he was telling me, and all I was able to do was nod at him. Everything was happening faster that I could think. I tried to remember my last thought; the gunshot to the chest that wasn't there. Where I was and why wasn't I dead? All of it was a blur until I walked out of the alley and into the brightly lit street.

True to the cop's word, there was a cab waiting for me and the guy unceremoniously dumped me into the back. I had barely got my foot clear of the door when he closed it shut with a loud bang. The noise and vibration were deafening as they caused my teeth to grind against each other.

The cop leaned the top part of his body through the car door's window, handed the driver some directions, and a five dollar bill to which he nodded and turned back around.

"Miss Reed," The cop addressed me all of a sudden while raising another piece of paper up to read it. "On behalf of Section Three and Mr. Kuryakin, we would like to thank you for your inability to shoot Mr. Solo, although he deserved it. Sorry, Mr. Kuryakin's words, not mine. Your help getting out of the lab and clinic was appreciated."

"Take this token from him, the THRUSH's form of tranquilizing dart, as the final lesson with him before you consider your future in THRUSH. He looks forward to watching your progress and is more than willing to test your abilities again when you so desire. He'll know where to find you."

"A THRUSH dart? God, they pack a wallop," I thought to myself, even if I didn't want to think how I had just flunked months of training in half a day. No wonder he would rather get hit or shot; those darts are nasty.

"Gee," The Section Three agent said with admiration. "You must have done something right for Mr. Kuryakin to leave you alive to live another day. I mean, that bastard is cold hearted. He'd sooner kill a THRUSH agent than try to train him. The sex must have been great for him to go to all this trouble. Well, that's what Solo says about that one nasty bird, Angelique. Oh, sorry."

"Don't you worry; I didn't appeal to his gay sensibilities." Yes, I lied about wanting to sleep with him, but I didn't want this jerk to know that.

"Mr. K gay? Man, there's no way he could be with that girlfriend of his." The beastly man shook his head. "Drop dead gorgeous, dark, reddish hair, blue eyes, and cool granny glasses. I'd like to take her around the world a few times…"

"Did you say granny glasses?" I asked, placing her in the room with us.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't go looking for a fight, she'll tear you apart," he said, rolling his eyes. "She's Section Two as well; frightfully smart, a scientist of some sorts, speaks tons of languages, and can be just as nasty as Mr. K when she feels like it."

"I'll keep that in mind," I scowled, the headache that was still pounding behind my eyeballs increased. I had had enough lessons for today. "Can I go home now?"

"Sure thing, little birdie."

The man smiled sweetly at me, pulled himself out of the car door window, and pounded the roof for the drive to take off. Exhausted, I fell back into the seat and closed my eyes. What a day!


End file.
